


Love Her Enough

by mirqueen



Category: The Real Adventures of Jonny Quest
Genre: Drama, F/M, Family, Friendship, Gen, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-25
Updated: 2014-01-25
Packaged: 2018-01-10 00:58:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,076
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1152901
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mirqueen/pseuds/mirqueen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jonny feels crowded and yet left out after Benton gets remarried. An unexpected letter gives him the understanding he needs to accept the changes in his family. (AU)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Love Her Enough

Disclaimer: I do not own nor make any profit off of _Jonny Quest_ or _The Real Adventures of Jonny Quest_. It belongs to Hanna-Barbera, Cartoon Network, etc. Neither do I own nor make profit off of the movie _Annie_.

A/N: I started writing a one-shot about Benton’s wedding. Then in the middle of it, I realized I had a couple of ways I could go with it. So this is one of two very different story-lines based on the same basic plot.

> **Love Her Enough**

Too many people…

There are just  _too many_  people in the house right now.

Ironically, my blonde hair is quite obvious in the large crowd, however, and against all odds I feel myself fighting a never-ending stream of well-wishers. Despite my dearest wish to get away, I can feel hands reaching out from everywhere, grabbing my hand to shake it vigorously. I’m beginning to think they see me as one of those old football games where the players buzz and shake to the other side.

My head feels fit to burst from all the commotion in the typically calm household. Well… as calm as it could ever be when not in times of peril, that is. Nevertheless, I’m out of my element. In the bustling atmosphere of college or in the Bangalore Palace or out amongst criminals and madmen (none of which gave me any sense of discomfort as far as my optimism was concerned) I could be myself, which ultimately meant that my comic-relief attitude was firmly in place and never out of style. Unfortunately, this is not one of those places. This is my home. And it is currently being invaded by so many government officials and celebrities and wanna-be-famous-scientists that I’m overwhelmed and a total misfit. Never mind that I’m quickly becoming renowned for my ‘technological mastermind’ as Race had so laughingly put it; this is Dad’s arena, after all, not mine.

Then again, Dad apparently has totally and completely sold out his brains in order to swoon over his new wife. I’m not upset about the wedding if Dad is happy, but I’ve got to say that Alena has not exactly endeared herself to me in recent years. No matter, I guess. I’m perfectly happy that Alena and Dad have finally passed ‘Go’ and are actually collecting the 200 dollars after this many years. But the idea that my dad thinks I’m the perfect host to take up their gigantic reception crowd which is sprawling everywhere from the cliffside to the forest and back down the driveway? Now  _that_ is upsetting.

What makes it twenty times worse is the fact that Jess is off somewhere in that sprawling mass playing up the perfect hostess, taking up the role because she knows I hate it. She’s always doing that, ever since we started dating a couple years ago, but it still doesn’t make me feel a lot better. Heck, I’d rather be standing  _with_  her and making attempts than standing here  _without_  her and being stared at. Somehow I should have known that I’d be left on my own to face the music. And the Wedding march was only been the beginning of it.

Irina Kafka, lately returned from an international tour, has been constantly encroaching on my personal space without my consent for the last week. Consequently, Jess forcefully pulled the famous pianist away from me a couple of hours ago and as far into the crowd as possible, introducing her to all the people that she  _knew_  would talk forever. Irene’s forward flirting was half of the reason Dad didn’t ask me to be best man.

I wanted to walk with Jess at all costs.

Alena refused to have anyone but Irina as her Maid of Honor.

Walking with Irina was out of the question as far as I was concerned and so Dad, obliging his future wife, asked Race. Catching Irina’s eye once during the ceremony only convinced me that Dad made the right choice in not forcing the issue with us, but it still hurts that my dad is putting me second. We’ve been the only close family for each other for a number of years and I was sure Dad wouldn’t wish to go without me as his ‘best’ man. Hurt aside, however, Irina  _does_  share a similar relationship with Alena and Jess’ temper is still legend in our house. So the terms were accepted and I’ve survived to the reception and more problems.

There was Hadji, who caused a stir amongst the masses merely by his name and mode of transport (It happened to be helicopter; I was eerily reminded of Punjab in that  _'Annie'_  movie with Carol Burnett). Of course, the actions of a certain Sultan in India improving Bangalore were renowned and realizing he was the same Sultan being blared across some international headlines has endeared him to a number of what I  _kindly_  labeled as the ‘Welfare Celebrities’ of the world, since the only time they seemed to be famous is when they lose money. They constantly sidle up to rich and famous people, hoping either to become famous then rich or simply rich right off the bat. ‘Moochers International’ was another fitting term I had labeled them with, among a rather large list of terms written only yesterday, before Jessie had calmly removed the paper from my work desk and pushed a faulty piece of our new Questworld security software under my nose for inspection. I’d still been thinking up names, of course, and this morning I displayed an equally long list to her, which she promptly threw into the fireplace (after reading it, of course). My morning only grew steadily worse after I accidentally let slip one of those ‘terms’ to my dad.

Dad isn’t typically so hard on me, even when I was a reckless teen he wasn’t (well I’m still reckless sometimes, but that isn’t the point). Seeing my dad so upset about something he normally would have chuckled at made me realize just how nervous the guy has been about today. I haven’t spoken to my Dad since. I simply stood as a groomsman between Hadji and Race, waiting for the end with a happy expression plastered across my face. Jess saw through it, I think, but at least Dad didn’t notice.

Added to all this fun stuff, is the appearance of Jade, whom Race somehow convinced to settle down and marry him back in my sophomore year. (I just figured he was bored, her ship had sunk, and she was finished with her illegal businesses, but now he says they love each other.) Jess was clearly  _not_  happy with that (I’d known  _that_ would happen), as that meant that Jade was in the wedding, since Alena was (as yet) not privy to the explanations of Jess’ hostility toward the woman. Strangely enough Alena had taken a liking to Jade and instant dislike to Estella, Jessie’s mom.

I didn’t exactly dislike Jade the first few years I knew her either. Now, however, I seriously couldn’t see how Jade’s personality would win out over Estella’s. Jess’ mom is honest and doesn’t get in your face, whereas Jade never seems to get the memo under any circumstances. Not to mention she’s cocky, vain, and a downright bit—Wow, Jess  _really_ needs to stop saying those things to me. I’m getting in a bad habit of saying them at the most inopportune times.

Just the same, it’s true and Estella is getting a raw deal, as per usual.

Dad  _did_  confide in me only a day or so ago, however, that after raising Irina (who is not even her own daughter) Alena seems to have taken offense at the fact that Estella had not spent every waking moment with her daughter. I don’t really see how that is any of Alena’s business, much as I’m willing to accept her for Dad’s sake.

Especially since Jess, the victim of this supposed ‘crime of motherhood’ as Alena had apparently described it to Dad, has forgiven Estella and is closer to her mother than anybody (with the exception of me).

Estella just stepped into my line of sight, actually. I think I’ll go talk with her. She’s got more interesting conversation than anybody, except for Jess.

"Jonny," Estella’s accent is only partially evident now as she calls out to me from several feet away. It’s no surprise after living the last several years in New York with Jess.

I still don’t know how that was agreed to, but the woman has stopped traveling to dig sites and begun comforting her daughter from the latest hiccup and assessing her newest friends with a mother’s critical eye.

Come to think of it, though, I think that it was shortly after Race married Jade when Estella started coming around. I’m beginning to see why Estella changed her goals.

Jess refused to accept her dad’s marriage. There was a huge argument between Race and Jess over it; that much she told me. Estella must have dropped everything and given up her career as an archaeologist in order to come and take care of her girl after Race took Jade’s side. Looks like Alena is sorely mistaken if she thinks Estella doesn’t love her daughter. If there was such a big problem with Estella not being there during Jess’ youth, Jess wouldn’t have run so quickly to her in the first place. Jess can hold a grudge for a long time if she’s hurting. Estella must not have missed _that_  much of Jess’ childhood or she would still be mad at her mom for it.

"Hey, Estella," my voice is actually cheerful, now that I’ve found someone interesting, "How’s the ‘party’?"

If she notices my emphasis on the word party, she certainly doesn’t show it. Wait, did the corner of her mouth just lift?

"It’s a lovely wedding," the redhead answers diplomatically and I’m not surprised. One word and she’s likely to get chewed up into tiny pieces by the ‘Snoot Brigade’.

Whoops, another one loosed. At least it wasn’t out loud.

"Yeah," I’m fairly sure I have no clue what to say without dismissing the entire event out of hand with a sarcastic retort, "Dad looks happy."

The use of the word ‘looks’ wasn’t lost on her or she wouldn’t have stared at me like she knows what I’m thinking. Standing in comfortable silence with Estella as I watch my Dad and Alena, I remember Jess telling me something similar to that when we were in our senior year at Rockport…

“ _I hope we have a quiet Easter,” Jess is picking at the grass as she talks and staring out at the ocean from our vantage point on the cliff._

_It’s one of our last days before Easter break and I know she’s thinking the same thing as me… she wants her dad to leave for the holiday. She never says it out loud, but whenever Jess mentions a quiet holiday, it means she wants Race and Jade to go somewhere else for a while._

“ _Maybe we’ll get lucky this time,” that’s just my way of being nice to Jess. I don’t like making her think about it so much._

“ _Yeah, maybe,” she grins over at me in thanks, from where she’s laying on her stomach._

“ _Why don’t we stay with your mom?” another way of being nice, since Jess is happiest with her mom. I used to suggest her staying with Estella a lot more often._

‘ _Why don’t you stay with your mom?’_ _I’d suggest. Over the last couple of years, the_ _'you'_ _came to be followed by an_ _'and maybe me'_ _and pretty soon I was saying_ _'we'_ _every time. It’s a habit now._

“ _Oh, she’s probably on a dig,” it’s a routine, but Jess isn’t going to quit it yet. We both know that Estella’s not on any digs now. She quit sometime in our sophomore year, “But she’ll call me and ask me what’s wrong.”_

_My redheaded friend goes really quiet on that last sentence, but I hear it just the same. It’s not part of our routine and I hope that just this once, she’ll really open up to me. So far all it’s been is me guessing, asking Dad what to do, and trying to make her feel better._

“ _How do you know that?” I ask in quiet curiosity, gazing at her small face._

“ _Whenever I call her,” her whispered words are halting, afraid to admit to what’s wrong in her life, “it’s like the smallest little word clues her in. It’s like she knows what I’m thinking and feeling.”_

“ _Maybe she does,” I venture cautiously, not going into detail about why I think that… even if Jess already knows what I mean._

A car horn and applause startles me from my memory. I look up to find my dad waving to me from the back of the Impala. Race and Jade are in the front, chauffeurs for the evening and thankfully planning for a second honeymoon in the Bahamas while Dad and Alena are away. Hadji is also loaded into his chopper and I wave to them both, smiling for effect. Dad waves once more and I watch him leave for what I know will be a not-entirely-romantic getaway in Japan and Tibet. Last I heard, he knows of a lab in Japan with some kind of new sea creature to examine and in Tibet there is an old friend of his whose town is technologically illiterate. Dad thinks it can be cured with about twenty desktop PCs, updated wiring, and the internet. He’s probably right.

Yes, my dad chooses his honeymoon spots for scientific reasons. Alena will be over _joyed_.

I look to Estella, who is still standing next to me, and I’m sure neither of us has ever looked more relieved to have something over and done with. Jess is currently announcing the end of the reception and I stifle a very antisocial grin at the thought of being alone with the only two people who really seem to know me anymore.

Estella takes a seat away from the mass as they search for their scattered things and then exit with a more quivering step than they’d entered with. I make my way to Jess to help dismiss the guests, only too pleasant now that I can get rid of the ‘Harbingers of Poverty’.

Uh…whoops again.

It’s a long, grueling process to extract the guests, but I can’t complain because I’ve been stiff all morning and now I can finally relax. I was almost giddy when I spilled something on my tux an hour ago. Not that Jess was at all pleased, but Estella grinned. She seemed to know darn well that I wanted to change into something that didn’t resemble a straight jacket.

I was as surprised as anybody when I found Jess stuffing my tux into one of the garbage bags. When she saw me, she looked like a deer caught in the headlights. She tried to be nonchalant when she told me I looked like I’d joined ‘Moochers International’, but all we could do was grin like fools.

"Party’s over," Jess is in my ear suddenly and I turn with a smile to find her holding a cup of coffee for each of us.

"Good," I have never been more sincere, "Can we actually sit back now?"

"Yep," my girlfriend has a knack for looking completely unrepentant and now is no exception. I laugh quietly, throwing my arm around her shoulders and sluggishly walking her into the living room and down onto the couch. The sound of dishes clinking in the kitchen as we sit makes Jess roll her eyes.

"A woman of the world who made a career for herself," she sighs amusedly, "and she still does domestics like she was born with a towel in her hand."

"What else is she going to do?" I throw back at her, "We have to live here for the next couple of months, you know. I kept hoping that our personal dishes wouldn’t get touched, but I should have known that 400-some people wouldn’t leave them alone."

"Ok, ok," she relents irritably, putting her hands up defensively, "I’ll let it go."

"Every time?" Estella’s voice sounds from the doorway and Jess blushes, "Or would you like to do them yourself?"

"Sorry, Mom," my girlfriend smiles sheepishly back, " _Every_  time.”

"Thank you," Estella laughs as she comes to sit with us, "but for right now I think I  _will_  take a break.”

We all sat comfortably for a long while and Estella had practically dozed off, but a sigh from Jess drew our startled attention.

"Jonny," she speaks slowly after a long pause. There is something thoughtful about her voice.

"Yeah?" I have to prompt her when she doesn’t say anything. I know whenever she waits that long she wants to know that I’m really listening.

Another pause and then finally she comes out with what she wants.

"I want to get married," so like Jess, to bluntly state what most women I know (including Irene Kafka) would resort to simpering and flirting about.

I have to admit I’m caught off guard, but I don’t think I’m nearly as shocked as I must look to her. It’s only because I’m still trying to sort out if she means now or later. She starts to pulls away, but I gently grasp her arms before she can.

"Don’t," I’m thinking as I speak, more instinctive than I’ve been in a while, "I’m just sorting it out up here."

I tap my forehead as if to clarify and Jess seems to relax a little beneath my hands, although not completely I notice.

"What are you sorting out?" the question is more tentative than I’ve ever seen Jessie acting in my life. She must really be scared of what I’m going to say if she’s hesitant to discuss it.

"I don’t know exactly," my admission stings, I can tell. Her eyes are now focused on her hands where she’s twisting them in her lap, "I guess what I really mean is it was…a little bit, uh…not sudden, exactly, but…"

I’m trying to think of a word that doesn’t make it sound like I don’t what to talk about it, but still lets her know I wasn’t very quick on the uptake. What hits me, though, is the fact that I don’t need to process anything anymore. I just put my foot in my mouth, as usual.

"Jess," I sigh, frustrated, as she pulls away again. I’m trying to force some sensible words into my head, "It was only that you caught me off a guard a little…not in a bad way. I just…had to catch my brain up, I guess. You didn’t seem like you were comfortable talking about marriage for a while and so I was happy to wait until you did. There was nothing to sort out, not really."

Good grief, I’m rambling. Rambling about a feeling that I’m not even feeling anymore!

"Jessie," Estella’s calm voice is soothing, even if unexpected, "Jonny is just worried about you two rushing into something you’re not ready for just yet. The two of you haven’t even really been dating each other for more than a couple months, after all."

"We’ve been together for two years, Mom!" Jess is so exasperated that I can’t help wincing. She’s right about that.

"Together, yes," Estella has been dying to say this, if her set face is anything to go by, "But actually having a romantic relationship? That first year you two barely acted on any real romance. It was more like your relationship had gone as far as friendship could go and yet there were still feelings left over after that standard was met. And then for ten months the two of you darted around each other with so much tension that I thought spontaneous combustion was entirely possible. It was only about two months ago that you and Jonny even went on a date!"

"I just want to know how we’re going to invite the people that mean so much to us without somebody killing somebody else," my sudden addition to the conversation has both women’s heads snapping my way.

I had been planning to sit perfectly silent while these two battled this out, but for heaven’s sake it’ll be my wedding too! I am not going to sit around deaf and dumb while my life is planned to a tee.

A slow smile is growing on Estella’s face as she realizes exactly what I’m saying. She sits back for a moment, but then she rises and leaves while Jess is still processing just what I mean.

"Did you just inadvertently accept a proposal from me?" her question is so funny for some reason and I find myself chuckling. She’s so indignant looking for a minute. Then she’s chuckling, too, and she kisses me quickly before running after her mom.

"Mom, I ‘m getting married!" Jess’ squeals are the best sound I’ve heard in a while.

The two ladies begin to chatter like squirrels about the dress that my girlfriend-turned-fiancé is going to wear and I find myself thinking of something that my dad gave me several years ago in anticipation of the time that I’d settle down with a woman I loved.

Heading up to my room, I take out my dad’s gift and slip back downstairs just as Jess is running to the stairs to find me.

"Where’d you go?" she asks with a roll of her eyes, "We have to talk about the guests and the dinner and all that. C’mon!"

I pull Jess back to me for a loving kiss that I’ve never given her before. She’s suitably pleased and mildly stunned so that I can speak my peace and not get dragged into the kitchen.

"Jess," my voice is steady, but my stomach is rolling, "I have to talk to you for a minute outside."

"Ok," she’s wary again, casting me looks of curiosity, "Lead on."

It only seems fitting that I take her to our spot on the cliff, where we’d so often watched the ocean and talked about everything that was important to us. The sun’s nearly set and it’s perfect lighting for what I want to do. Not too bright, not too dark, and just enough to see by. Taking her hand, I lead her to the edge where she used to pick the grass while we talked.

Jess is no dummy and her face tells me she knows exactly what I’m doing. But it doesn’t matter now. This is too important to leave out.

Kneeling down, as any guy with a bit of sense would have done a long time ago, I find myself looking into her lovely face and holding her small hands and finally recognizing just how much I’ve come to love her. It’s so strange to think I’ve never acknowledged it before. I take a deep breath for courage and let it out slowly as I start to speak.

"Jess…  _Ace_ …” she grins a bit at her old nickname, “We’ve been friends since we were seven years old. I was a kid without rules and you were a tomboy with a pretty nifty set of teeth then.”

My redhead laughs softly, no doubt remembering the first time we met and fought over the lone swing by the front of the property. Gosh, it was so long ago…

"But we outgrew all that," this is more than I really planned to say, but who’s to say how long this should be? "and ever since then we’ve been through almost every kind of hell imaginable. We’ve stuck it out together and come out the better for it. By the time you stepped off of that plane two years ago, I was more in love with you than I could hope to be with anyone on this earth… For all he’s acting pretty lovesick right now, my Dad is still a great guy and he knew how I felt long before I did. When he realized how I felt, he gave this to me with some pretty strict instructions."

My mother’s simple wedding ring is brighter than I remember it being. Or is it just my eyes going funny on me?

"I’m not supposed to give this to  _any_  woman,” Dad’s words come back with a vengeance and I almost feel like he’s here saying them, rather than heading to his honeymoon destination, “until I feel so much love that I’d be willing to give up everything for her. Unless I love her just as much when she’s dirty, sick, and upset as when she’s healthy and happy … then I don’t love her enough. If I don’t love her when she’s mad at me, when she’s in pain, and when she’s old, wrinkled, and gray then I don’t love her enough.”

Jess is trying valiantly to hold in her tears, but then so am I. I can’t help thinking about how much my dad must have loved my mom. Before I came into their lives, before they were even married… what must have went through my parents’ minds as my Dad asked this oh-so-important question?

"I’ve been with you through so much," my voice is shakier than it was at first, "I’ve have been there when you were dirty, sick, tired, upset, angry, and in pain. Not once did I care about you any less. When we were in South America with your mom, I even saw you old, wrinkled, and gray. I can tell you right now that I love you enough, Ace."

Why I pause I will probably never know, but it’s like this is the last barrier to cross before the big plunge.

"Will you marry me?"

The solemn moment I had worked so hard to get to is whipped away like the wind as Jess throws her arms around me and tells me yes. Somehow, though, that doesn’t matter all that much as we walk back inside, Jess wearing a silver band with a small diamond on her left hand.

As Estella, Jess, and I discuss details, I am wondering whether or not Dad asked himself these same questions before he married Alena. I hope so, but I’m almost afraid to ask. What would happen if he realized that he didn’t follow those guidelines? Does he have enough room inside to love someone as much as he’d loved Mom?

It feels like I should know the answer to this, even as I question it. Jess seems to understand when I head back upstairs to the room I’ve lived in for most of my life, but she’s not psychic and I haven’t said a thing about my worries yet. I just feel like sitting alone for a minute, I think. I’m happy that Jess is going to marry me, but my Dad’s happiness is heavy on my mind.

I don’t know how long I’ve been sitting, but a glance at the clock confirms my suspicions that it’s probably been too long. I’m twenty-six and my dad is closing in on fifty-seven. If he isn’t old enough to figure out his own life, then I’m certainly not either.

Just as I’m about to leave, my eye catches something in the drawer where I’ve kept my mother’s wedding rings for so long. It’s new, as far as I can tell, but in my hurry to get back to Jess I had clearly overlooked it. Reaching in, I pull out a small envelope that is unmarked.

My curiosity is sparked for the hundredth time today as I open it and pull out a message in Dad’s neat print.

_Jonny,_

_It may seem to you that I’ve overlooked my own happiness by not necessarily following those strict guidelines which I set out for you when I gave you your mother’s wedding rings. I suppose my only excuse is that those guidelines were only so that you would make yourself think hard and long about just who you marry._

_There are no guidelines for knowing you’ve found the one for you. All we can ever do is love the people around us and hope that someday the right person will be one of those people._

_Your mother is always in my heart, son, and I’ll never be able to love anyone the exact same way. Wherever she is, if I see her again when my time comes, I’ll know I’ve loved her enough._

_I love you, son. No matter who I marry or where I go, I always will._

_Dad_

I can only stand here, staring at the evidence of my dad’s intuition and understanding. When I thought he was thinking about me the least, he was putting his heart into this little bit of writing that has answered so many questions that I didn’t even know I’d wanted to ask.

I think I’ve been crying, but I’m not too sure. I can’t focus on anything long enough to know. All I know is that I love my dad more than ever and that parents know so much more than their kids will ever give them credit for.

Estella just came in for some reason. Jess isn’t normally so passive about me, but looking at my future mother-in-law, I guess I was right about parents… even when the kid isn’t their own.

I don’t speak. I don’t really have to. I just let her put the letter back, dry my face, and kiss my forehead like I’m a kid again. Because at the moment, I think that’s all I am. I was confused and upset and while my dad cleared up the mess of the confusion, the only mom left to me is soothing the upset.

Much of the night after that was uneventful, as the past two months have been with only Jess and Estella for company. When Dad, Alena, Race, and Jade returned today, I thought I was going to hate having so many people around again. As we sat down for dinner and announced our engagement, however, I realized that I had never had a problem with the  _number_  of people around me. It was the people themselves that made the difference.

If I was given a choice, though, I’d pick Jess any time.

* * *

 


End file.
